This morning I learned that a former coworker and a shirttail in-law is dying of cancer. She can be no more than 35 years old and has three small children. The very idea of it breaks my heart. My own partner’s recent cancer scare, coupled with going back to work and talking to my friends about life (and mid-life issues) had already made me decide to write this blog post about my bucket list. Tatum’s imminent passing has just made this post more poignant to me. Too often I forget that life isn’t a dress rehearsal and I don’t want to get to the end of my journey wishing I had done or seen something that would make me feel more complete.
My list isn’t long but it does sum me up pretty well. On there I’ve got some skills I want to learn—how to eat with chopsticks (I always feel the lack in Japanese restaurants), finally learning to swim (I love the water but I have a great fear of drowning—go figure) and become fluent in a second language (I’ve come close and am still debating between French and Spanish). I’ve got places I want to see including Greece, Hawaii and New Orleans, and experiences I want to have (hello Carnival!). And of course hit a bestseller list (doesn’t matter which one, though I’ve got my eye on you, New York Times) As I look at the list I created just two days ago I think about Tatum and whether she had created her bucket list and if she was able to cross of anything if she did. I hope to God she did.